Halo
by themadyjones
Summary: On an Earth where mutants exist and are seen as a problem, one girl discovers her powers and sets out to help the world as much as she can. She encounters (and saves) a man known as Cyclops, and a year later, joins him at the school for mutants. There, nobody but herself knows her closely guarded secret. But, as she soon finds out, keeping her identity safe isn't easy.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys! So, here's ****_another_**** story! My friend (RosaleeElisabeth, you should check her out!) gave me like five X-Men movies to watch, and now I'm hooked. I mean, it's Marvel, so why wouldn't it be cool? So now here I am, posting yet another story for your enjoyment. This will start off a little before X2, and then it will go through that movie and through the end of The Last Stand. Get excited, 'cause I am!**

PROLOGUE

Scott Summers gasped out a breath. His muscles ached with exhaustion, his lungs screamed for air, and his ribs groaned under the mutant's grip. He'd never seen anything like it before, and he'd witnessed dozens of genetic mutations in his lifetime. This particular one had inky black skin and fluorescent green eyes. Spikes ran along his spine and down to the end of his tail. He stood at least thirty feet tall, and looked like a slightly deformed Tyrannosaurus rex. Scott couldn't see any of the mutant's powers, except for his obvious strength and ability to grow to the size of a building. Only an hour ago, the mutant was barely taller than Scott.

Now, the unnamed assailant had Scott in his grip, compressing his ribs and constricting his lungs. His entire body rumbled with what could only be described as a chuckle. "Ready to give up yet, weakling?" His voice was deep and robotic. "Your reputation exceeds you. Professor Xavier holds you in such high esteem, yet you haven't even attacked me yet."

Scott struggled against the monster's hold. "Put me down!"

"Little Cyclops getting tired of playing damsel?" His midnight sky of a head bent closer, until one green eye and one bottomless abyss of a pupil was all Scott could see. "Where are your friends, hero? Perhaps they would put up more of a fight."

Drawing in as much of a breath as his squeezed lungs could hold, Scott turned directly toward the bright emerald orb. Then he released his own mutant power. Dual beams of red shot from his eyes, blasting into the mutant's pupil. The mutant screamed with rage and pain, lurching backward with a strangled cry. His black body spasmed once before it started to shrink, returning to its normal size.

His hands were decreasing in size as well, and Scott suddenly found himself too big to be held that high up in the air. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from hurtling thirty feet toward the ground.

oOoOo

Her head turned toward the sound of a man's surprised shout. She could see nothing but trees on either side of her, but she knew which way to go. She jumped into the air and hovered for less than a second before flying off in the direction of the sound, her long blonde hair waving behind her like a flag.

The source of the yelling was coming from a clearing in the center of the forest. The man was falling from high up in the air, too high for even a mutant like herself to survive the crash landing. Well, if she couldn't fly, that is. A short way away stood a dark skinned man whose height was gradually decreasing. An obvious mutant.

The falling man was approaching the ground fast; she had to get to him quickly. She flew in toward him until she was flying perpendicular to his back. Reaching out, she wrapped both arms around his waist and leaned backward until they were falling vertically. She slowed their descent down a considerable amount until their feet gracefully touched down on the grass.

She released the man from her grasp and took a step back. He pivoted to gaze upon his savior. She took that time to inspect him as well. He looked to be a few years older than her. His hair was brown and fell in waves to just above his ears. Faint stubble lined his finely-crafted jawline. She couldn't see his eyes, as they were hidden behind dark sunglasses with red lenses. He stood just slightly taller than she did.

"Thanks," he said, his voice smooth. "I thought I was a goner."

There was a sudden, angry roar from behind them. The black mutant was back and ready to attack. She smirked as she watched the beast charge at them. "Looks like you spoke too soon," she chuckled.

The man followed her line of vision and set his jaw in grim determination. He shot his lasers at the mutant again, but missed. Instead, the beams hit a tree, which burst into flames soon after. For having such an awkward-looking body, the mutant could move quickly. He dodged ray after ray, coming closer each time he did so.

The girl leapt out of the way as the attacking mutant swung his tail. The man wasn't quite so lucky. The spikes hit him square in the stomach, launching him twenty feet backward into the bushes.

Narrowing her eyes, she clenched her fists and rose into the air before the mutant could come after either of them again. Wind whipped her blonde strands into her face, far stronger than was probably forecasted. A slight glow surrounded her body. She opened her mouth, and out poured a single note, sung beautifully in a high soprano voice. The air vibrated around her.

The mutant clasped his clawed hands to his ears and let out a wail, dropping to his knees. The ground shook where he fell; the leaves on the trees surrounding the fight shivered. The lime green eyes closed as he slipped into unconsciousness.

With the mutant lying passed out on the grassy terrain, the girl cut her song and drifted back down to land inside the tree line. The man with the laser eyes was groaning from where he laid covered in leaves and twigs. With a small, quiet laugh, she bent over and took his hand, helping him to his feet.

"Thanks," he said. "Again. That's some voice you've got there."

She shrugged. "It was nothing." With both hands, she reached out and pressed her fingers to the multiple cuts on his face. Right before his eyes, the wounds healed, leaving behind no marks or scars. She redirected her attention to his abdomen, where the mutant's tail had created a deep gash across his stomach. She knew it must have been hurting him, but his face revealed nothing to her.

It took a bit more effort to seal the laceration, as it was far larger than the tiny scrapes on his cheeks and forehead. He gave a sharp hiss as she ran her fingertips along the length of the still-bleeding slash mark. Her hands glowed with a soft gold shade, speeding up the healing process.

"So, you're a mutant?" she asked as she worked.

He nodded. "Yes. They call me Cyclops, because of my eyes, but my real name is Scott Summers."

She made a noise of acknowledgement and finished her job, making sure he looked as good as new.

The noise of quiet pain turned into a sigh of relief. He caught her wrist in his hand and smiled at her. "Thank you. I mean it. I really do owe you one."

"It was nothing," she repeated. "It's just what I do."

There was a moment of silence between them as they exchanged a long look, each trying to figure out the other. The dark-skinned mutant slept heavily a few feet away, but they paid him no mind.

Finally, the girl cleared her throat. "I should be going. Be careful out there, Scott Summers."

She turned to leave, but Scott grabbed her elbow. "Wait a minute." She looked back at him, a questioning expression on her face. "You never did tell me. What's your name?"

oOoOo

"Halo," Scott said. "She said her name was Halo."

He was leaning against the wall in Professor Xavier's office. He'd returned from his fight with the black mutant less than an hour earlier. Said mutant was being stored in the basement, away from the students' prying eyes and questions. The professor had requested his presence, and Scott had let slip how he was saved by the mysterious golden girl. That's what she was: her hair was a light blonde, and her eyes were a shocking shade of bright gold. Halo was a very fitting name.

The professor pressed his palms together and rested his chin on the tips of his fingers. "I see. Did she say what her real name is? Or perhaps where she is from? I don't remember hearing of someone of her talents before."

Scott shook his head. "No. She healed my wounds, told me her name, and then she disappeared."

The professor made a noise of contemplation. "Very interesting. Scott, I am truly sorry that you had no backup today; Jean has been caught up in the lab all day, and Storm has recently found herself occupied by her classes."

"It's fine. I'm just glad Halo showed up before anything too bad could happen."

Professor Xavier fixed Scott with a thoughtful, far off gaze. "Yes. We are all fortunate that she came to your assistance." He turned his head and looked out the window. Scott stared off in that direction as well. "Let us hope that she will resurface again in the near future."


	2. Chapter One

**Hey everyone! So, here's the next chapter. I'm on Thanksgiving break right now, so I'll hopefully be able to get some more chapters out before school starts up again. So, eat your turkey and other things of that nature, and read some fan fiction, because that's exactly what I'll be doing (minus the turkey, plus some pie :D). Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Hope you like the chapter!**

ONE

~One year later~

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she ran. She had no idea where she was going. Her brown hair was slick with sweat; her blue eyes were wide in terror and determination. The thundering of heavy footsteps echoed in the hall behind her. Her reflection ran alongside her on the metallic walls, showing a thin girl in her early twenties with a panicked expression.

_Why did I even come here? I'm not prepared for this!_ she thought to herself as she rounded a corner. _Dammit, this is ridiculous!_

She'd entered the lab purely on a whim, and now she was running for her life from some giant, muscular mutant who somehow knew her name. The quick glance she'd gotten at the screens behind him told her that his name was Sabretooth. She'd heard that name before.

She turned another corner and smacked into the chest of a green-skinned man. Toad.

His tongue lashed out at her, but she quickly dodged out of the way. "I thought you died!" she spit, evading another attack.

Toad's eyes suddenly flashed gold with cat's pupils, and his green skin melted away into a deep blue shade. His spiky green hair grew longer and turned red. It was slicked back against his skull and down the back of his neck. Only it wasn't a "he" anymore; it was Mystique, the mutant girl with the ability to take anyone's form.

"I'm surprised you heard about that," Mystique's silky voice purred as she took a step forward.

Instantly, the girl took a step back, but she bumped into something hard. She glanced up. Sabretooth was standing right behind her, blocking her last available exit. Keeping her voice from quivering, the girl replied, "Well, when the Brotherhood loses one of its, uh, _brothers_, it's kind of a big deal. Magneto must be livid."

"Magneto will be pleased that we've finally found you, fool. You shouldn't have come here." Mystique's lips turned up into a smile. She reached out with one blue hand and grasped the girl by her upper arm. "Time to go, Sabretooth."

Suddenly, there was a loud clap of thunder from outside the building. Through one of the windows, the girl could see a storm raging in the sky. She didn't recall the brief glimpse she'd caught of the forecast telling her there was going to be rain. Another mutant must have arrived.

"Storm," Mystique muttered darkly, glaring at the oncoming clouds.

_Yes, obviously it's a storm,_ the girl thought sarcastically. Why did her captors suddenly look so anxious? They couldn't possibly be afraid of a little rain, could they?

There was a flash of red before her eyes, and Sabretooth was flung backward down the hallway. Mystique let out a nasty hiss and released her grip, turning herself into a woman with dark brown skin and white hair. "Hey, I've found her!" she called out.

Another beam of red light hit Mystique squarely in the chest. She flew back against the wall, landing in a heap on the floor. A man with brown hair stepped out of the shadows of the hallway and shook his head. "Nice try, Mystique, but you're not Storm."

The girl smiled. So Storm was a person, then? She couldn't have guessed that. And, if her memory served her right, the man standing before her was none other than Cyclops, or Scott Summers. She hadn't seen him in what must have been a year.

Scott turned to look at her. "Are you all right?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but Mystique's eyes had opened. She made herself look like a duplicate of Scott, right down to the sunglasses with their red lenses. She shot him with lasers, sending him off down the hallway, and got to her feet. Her skin returned to its blue color, her normal form. She grabbed the girl again and turned her in the opposite direction, shoving her roughly between the shoulder blades. "Let's go," she snarled. "Magneto is waiting."

There was a loud groan from behind them. Scott had gotten up again and was advancing on them. His fingertips went to his glasses. Another laser beam hit Mystique, and she fell heavily to the floor. He shot in the general direction of Sabretooth, just to be sure he was still down. There was a half-hearted grunt, giving him his answer.

The girl had shrunk away from Mystique's fallen body and was standing with her back pressed against the wall. "You saved me," she said to Scott, gazing upon him with gratitude.

"Don't push your luck next time," he muttered back, aiming a kick at Mystique. She moaned. He turned to look at the girl. "What on Earth were you thinking, coming here? Do you have no common sense? Magneto is nothing to be taken lightly."

_Good to see you, too,_ she thought sarcastically, narrowing her eyes. The look on Scott's face told her he had no idea who she was. That was all for the better. "Are you hurt at all?" she asked, ignoring his question. She held up her hands; they were faintly glowing. Her power in her normal form was nothing like her other form; the other form was much stronger.

Scott, she assumed, was looking at her hands. "What's your name?" It was his turn to ignore her.

"Tara Ryan," she replied, offering her hand. It had stopped glowing now; he didn't look injured. Instead of shaking her hand, he just stared at her. "Come on. I'm not diseased or anything," she urged with a grin.

Scott tilted his head to the side. His lips pursed slightly, like he was thinking hard about something. "Do I know you?" he asked, taking a step closer.

Tara would have taken a step backward if she wasn't already up against the wall. "Um, no," she said, thinking fast. "I don't think so."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never seen you before," she lied, furrowing her eyebrows at him. She'd met him a year ago, and for only about ten minutes; how was it possible that he remembered her, even if it was just a little? "I think I'd remember a man who could shoot lasers from his eyes," she continued slowly.

Scott nodded, glancing over his shoulder at the window. The storm that had been raging previously had subsided. The sun was shining. "I'm Scott Summers," he told her. "My hero name is Cyclops. What's yours?"

"I don't have one. I'm just Tara."

His lips pressed together into a hard line. A tense silence ensued, with neither of them breaking eye contact. Well, she assumed they didn't; she couldn't exactly see his eyes behind his glasses.

"Scott!" someone called. From around the corner came the woman Mystique had disguised herself as. The dark skin on her forehead glistened with sweat. She was breathing hard. "I found you. What are you still doing here? This place is crawling with Magneto's cronies."

She stopped when she noticed Tara standing quietly by. "You found her."

Tara's lips tugged upward into a shy smile. "Hi," she said. "I'm Tara."

"Hello, Tara. I'm Storm," the woman replied with a warm smile.

The younger girl's blue eyes were drawn to a cut on Storm's cheekbone. A thin line of blood trickled from it, making a deep red trail down to her chin. "You're injured," Tara murmured, reaching out one hand. She pressed her fingertips against the scrape, focusing all her energy on sealing it. She sighed internally; healing people took so much longer in this form.

Once the cut was gone, she stepped back. Her confidence had returned; she was doing what she did best.

Storm's hand went to her cheek. "Thanks. Some of Magneto's goons came after me. I got hit by one of them." She turned her head and took in the sight of Mystique lying unconscious on the metal floor. "Although I take it you two had it a bit worse." She grinned at Scott. "Sorry I couldn't be here to help."

Scott shrugged his shoulders. "You made an excellent distraction. Tara here would have been in Magneto's clutches if you hadn't been here."

"What are you doing here in the first place, Tara?" Storm asked, raking her eyes over the girl's slender form.

Taking Tara by the elbow, Scott turned them away. "We can discuss this on the ride back to the school. We're not safe here."

Tara didn't have much choice besides jogging in between Storm and Scott. Both of them had a firm grip on her arms. Every now and again, they'd pause in their steady pace and glance around, making sure they weren't being followed. All the precautions aside, nobody else came after them; Sabretooth and Mystique must have been the last of the attack force. In any case, they made it to the plane without any disturbances.

Scott and Storm took their seats across from Tara. Storm leaned back in her chair, relaxed; Scott sat a little straighter, his back rigid, his body tense and on alert. Tara herself sat quietly in her seat with her arms crossed across her chest, waiting for one of them to break the uneasy silence.

"So, about you being in Magneto's lab…" Storm began, rubbing her hands together. Static crackled between her palms. "How did you get there in the first place?"

Tara ran a hand through her brown curls, twisting one of the strands around her fingers. "It's not like I _wanted_ to go there," she started. "I was looking for Professor Xavier's school for mutants."

Scott scoffed. "Magneto's lab is about as far from the professor's school as possible."

"Yeah, well, I get that now," Tara snapped, rolling her eyes. "Some voice in my head told me which direction I was supposed to go in, but now I get the feeling that it led me the wrong way." She paused, tilting her head. "What do you suppose it was?"

Storm shrugged. "The only person I've heard of who can put thoughts into people's heads is the professor. And why would he want to lead you to Magneto's lab? It doesn't make any sense."

"Professor Xavier will figure it out." Scott turned his head and started out at the passing scenery. "We should be almost there by now."

Tara squirmed in her seat. She was anxious to meet the professor, so much that her stomach was clenched in an almost uncomfortable manner. Whether it was from nerves or excitement, she had no idea. She was interested in seeing the school, but at the same time, she was worried about what was going to happen next. Keeping her other form hidden was going to be a lot more difficult in a place crawling with other mutants.

The plane touched down a short while later. Tara, overcome by curiosity, stood up to get a better look at whatever lay outside the window.

Countless numbers of students, ranging from elementary age to just a year or so younger than herself, were walking in and out of the large building that looked more like a mansion than a school. A few of them paused to stare at the aircraft with smiles on their faces. They all looked to be a happy bunch of kids, Tara noticed. Maybe hiding her secret wouldn't be so hard after all.

She turned when she felt someone tap her shoulder. It was Scott. "Come on, I'll take you to Professor Xavier." He offered her his hand to help her up. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. That hand moved to the small of her back as he guided her out of the plane. "This way."

The crowd of students parted to let them pass. Many of them greeted Scott and Storm, who was following closely behind. Others watched Tara walk by, their expressions ranging from excitement to wonder. She began to feel a little self-conscious; never before had so many people stared at her like that. She really didn't like it.

Scott ushered her through a heavy-looking wooden door. From what Tara could see, the school was formed out of a mansion; she was just inside the door, but everything she set her eyes on looked expensive. Professor Xavier must have a lot of money on him.

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. What on Earth was she doing here? This was a _school_, and she was old enough to be in college. Would they still accept her?

_The voice said to come here, _she reminded herself. But that voice had also led her straight to Magneto, the one person she'd spent a year running from. Why, if she was supposed to be here, would it do that?

"Hey, what's the problem?" Scott nudged her with his shoulder, making her jump. She blinked her blue eyes at him in surprise. "Come on. The professor is waiting."

Tara nodded and followed Scott down a long hallway. Storm left them soon after, walking into an empty room. To prepare for her next class, according to Scott. They walked a little further. A girl with dark hair and two strands of white that framed her face fell into step beside them.

"Jean will be happy you're back," she said, looking past Tara to Scott. "She was kinda disappointed that she couldn't go with."

Scott chuckled. "She wasn't needed. The mission went just fine without her."

"Don't tell _her_ that." The girl giggled once, smiled at Tara, and then turned into an open doorway.

Tara nodded her head in the girl's direction. "Who was that?" she asked.

Scott followed her gaze but didn't slow his pace. "Her name is Rogue. She has the ability to absorb another mutant's power through physical contact for a short while. We rescued her a little less than a year ago."

"Rescued her from what?"

The two of them stopped outside a large set of double doors. Scott put a hand on one doorknob and turned to face her. He paused just a moment, like he was looking her over, before replying, "Sabretooth."

Tara swallowed once. So it wasn't just her that Magneto was after. She could see Magneto's perspective, however; being able to take another mutant's power was surely a valuable ability. Good for Scott and the others, saving Rogue like that. And she appreciated them coming to her rescue as well.

"This is it," Scott continued, returning his attention to the doors. He knocked once, and then opened one door. Holding it open, he motioned to Tara with his free hand. "After you."

Taking a deep breath, Tara shot Scott a quick glance. When she saw his encouraging expression, she turned back to the door. Swallowing once, she stepped inside.


	3. Chapter Two

**Hey everyone! Well, here's the new chapter, so I hope you like it. I'm really enjoying writing this one, so I hope you all like it, too. Also, my story Animo is winding down to its last chapter, so you should that one out if you're an Avengers fan. Okay, well, that's it, so enjoy the chapter!**

TWO

Paneled walls, wooden flooring, and high, clear windows were the first things that Tara noticed when she walked into Professor Xavier's office. The second thing she saw was a sturdy desk littered with various objects: paper, pens, a potted plant, and a few photos she couldn't quite make out. The third thing: the professor himself.

Professor Xavier was not exactly what she was expecting. She'd entered the room envisioning a tall man with a stern face and a surly attitude. Like a high school principal, in a way. But instead, the professor was kind-faced and wore a smile that appeared as soon as she looked his way. His hair was completely gone, and, once she drew nearer to the desk, she noticed he sat not in an office chair but in a wheelchair.

"Hello, Scott," he said in a deep voice. "Thank you for bringing her here. Please pass my thanks on to Storm as well."

"Of course, Professor," Scott replied, nodding his head in acknowledgement. "Do you want me to go now, or…?" He trailed off, tilting his head toward Tara, a questioning look on his face.

The professor shook his head slightly. "No, you can tell her later. I'm sure Tara here would feel better with someone she knows in the room."

"I'm not afraid of you," Tara cut in, tired of being talked about. She narrowed her eyes and didn't divert her attention from the older man's face. Her hands curled into fists automatically and her shoulders tensed.

Despite her guarded stance and attitude, the professor smiled at her. "Oh, I know you aren't." He chuckled lightly before continuing. "I am Professor Charles Xavier, as I'm sure you've figured out by now. And you are Tara Ryan, are you not?"

"I am." She didn't bother to question how he knew her name. Storm had briefly mentioned his ability to communicate through thought; he could probably read her thoughts as well. _Better keep it PG,_ she thought with a dry smile.

The professor's lips turned upward into a ghost of a smile, like he'd heard what she'd told herself. _I've heard worse._ The professor's deep voice echoed in her mind, startling her. So Storm was right in what she'd said; the professor _could_ talk to her through thought. Very impressive.

"Now, Tara," Professor Xavier was saying. "I'd like to take a look inside your mind and see what I can determine about your abilities. If you'll allow me to, of course."

Tara considered it for half a second before replying, "Uh, sure. I guess that's all right."

The professor motioned her forward. She complied, taking a few hesitant steps before coming so close that her thighs touched the table. She leaned toward him, holding herself up by pressing her palms against the tabletop. Professor Xavier reached out and rested his fingertips against her temples, closing his eyes as he did so.

Tara closed her eyes as well, and her mind was instantly swarmed with images of her past. There was her mother and father teaching her how to ride a bike, her first day of kindergarten, when she'd punched a little boy in the nose for pulling on her pigtails, and one Christmas when she'd received the action figure she'd been begging for. On the darker side of her life, there was the day her friends decided she wasn't good enough to hang out with them, and the day her parents announced they were getting divorced.

Each instant of her past flitted by quickly, never pausing for a long period of time. The longest memory she relived was the day she'd gone to the park with her grandmother. They were seated on a park bench, feeding pieces of bread to the robins. A cardinal flew down from the tree and landed on her shoulder. It pulled on one of her curls that had fallen loose from its braid, but she didn't mind. A bluebird sat on her knee and trilled at her, waiting patiently for its own piece of crust. Her grandmother laughed from her seat beside her; on her were several birds as well. Tara didn't know why that memory stuck out to Professor Xavier, but she didn't care; that was one of the only times she'd gotten to see her grandmother. Her parents thought the older lady was strange, so they kept her away.

That memory faded from her vision and was replaced by another, one that made her heart start beating madly in her chest. _Not this, please, please, not this!_ she pleaded, but the professor either wasn't listening or he was ignoring her.

The headlights of a car burned her eyes, making her squint against the glare. The lights drew closer and closer, and with every passing second, Tara's pulse accelerated. Everything else around her was in complete darkness. It was nighttime in the memory, a night she knew all too well. The squealing of tires resounded in her ears, making her cry out. Red flashed across the image, splattering across what she knew to be the windshield. And that's when she shut down.

Her mind pushed against Professor Xavier's, knocking him out of her mind and sending her catapulting into his. A young man with bright blue eyes and carefully combed brown hair stood before her mental projection of herself. He was dressed in an all-black outfit: dress pants, shirt, and jacket. He was staring at something to the right of her head. She turned and saw another man, this one taller and older by a few years, and wearing a gray sweat suit.

This man was holding his hands out in front of him. His eyes were focused on what she assumed to be the giant satellite dish in the distance. His arms shook as his face turned red with concentration. _What on Earth is he trying to do?_ Tara thought to herself, tilting her head to watch him.

"You know," the first man started as the second man dropped his arms with a gasp. "I believe that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity." He lifted one hand to his forehead and wiggled his fingers. "Do you mind if I…?"

The second man didn't appear to look like he cared, so the first man pressed his fingertips to his temple and closed his eyes. It was then that Tara realized that she was watching a younger Xavier tap into another person's mind. She couldn't see what memories he was rifling through, but she could see the effect it had on both of the men. A silent tear slipped down the second man's cheek, and she saw Professor Xavier wiping one away as well.

"What did you just do to me?" the second man asked as Xavier stepped closer to stand at his side.

The younger Charles Xavier leaned against the stone railing before them. "I accessed the brightest corner of your memory system. A very beautiful memory, Erik, thank you."

"I didn't know I still had that," the second man, Erik, answered with a small shake of his head.

"There's so much more to you than you know," the professor replied. "Not just pain and agony. There's good, too, I've felt it. And you can access all that. You possess a power no one can match. Not even me." There was pause, and then Xavier tapped Erik on the arm. "So, come on. Try again."

Erik turned back to the giant metal dish thing and raised one hand. A few seconds passed, and another tear slid down his cheek. With an awful groaning sound, the dish began turning toward the two of them, plus Tara, who was looking on in awe.

Erik dropped his hands and broke into a large grin. A laugh forced its way out of his throat, and Xavier joined in.

Then that memory was gone and Tara found herself standing on a beach surrounded by a good handful of other people. She turned in a circle, trying to find the professor. She saw men dressed in navy blue and yellow costumes standing off to the side. In the middle of that group stood none other than Mystique. She was younger, but it was definitely her; the blue skin and red hair where the same as they were in the real world.

_What is she doing here?_ Tara wondered. She didn't ponder over that for much longer, as she'd spotted a man lying on his back in the sand, his head and shoulder blades being held up by another man wearing a metal helmet.

As she reached the two men, she crouched down to eyelevel with the one in the helmet. She peeked beneath the helmet and stared into the dull blue eyes of Erik. His face was slick with sweat and his body was shaking as he focused his gaze on the man in his arms. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. Looking past Tara's head, he yelled, "I said back off!"

Behind her, the men who she'd seen earlier stopped dead in their tracks on their way to see what was going on. A woman dressed in a gray outfit with dark brown hair also stopped, her eyes wide as she stared at the body on the ground.

"You." Erik had directed his attention at the woman in the gray. His eyes were cold and unforgiving. "You did this," he growled. He raised his hand.

The dog tags around the woman's neck lurched upward and tightened, cutting off her air. Her black gloved hands went to her throat, trying to pry them off, but Erik wasn't letting go.

"Please." Tara recognized the voice of the younger professor and looked down. It was he that was lying sprawled out on the beach, sucking in shallow gasps of air. His bright blue eyes were full of pain, but he didn't show it in his words. "She didn't do this, Erik," he said. "You did."

Erik dropped his hand, releasing the woman from his hold. His focus went back to his friend. "Us turning on each other. That's what they want," he said, his voice huskier than Tara remembered. "I tried to warn you, Charles."

Tara looked out toward the ocean and spied several ships rocking back and forth in the water. Was that the "they" that Erik was referring to? A few boats? It must have been more than that, if his serious expression told her anything.

"I want you by my side," Erik continued. "We're brothers, you and I. All of us, together, protecting each other." He looked up toward the other people on the beach, then back down at the professor. "We want the same thing."

Xavier drew in another heavy breath. "My friend," he replied, a sad look on his face. "I'm sorry, but we do not."

There was a time skip, and when the fast-forward stopped, Tara was in the same position, but people were missing. Erik and Mystique were gone, as well as two other men and a woman. The one Erik had tried to choke was now holding Professor Xavier, and the remaining few had surrounded him.

"I'm gonna get you to a hospital," the woman was saying as she tried to lift Xavier into a sitting position.

Xavier let out a pained grunt, and a man covered in blue fur pressed his hand against the professor's chest, laying him back down. "Wait. Don't – Charles, don't – don't move, okay?"

"I won't," the professor answered, clenching his eyes shut. "I ca – actually, I ca – I ca – I can't feel my legs." He stated to words simply as he stared at the sky. "I can't feel my legs," he repeated. "I can't feel my legs." Each time he said it, the words sounded more desperate and disbelieving, and Tara's heart cracked.

_So, that's how he ended up in that wheelchair,_ she realized sadly, getting to her feet and turning away. She hated seeing people in pain; that was why she found so much joy in healing. _If I would have been there, I could have helped him!_ She glared at the ships that still floated in the distance, silently hating them for not coming to the aid of the man on the beach.

"This was before your time, Tara. There's nothing you could have done."

Tara turned to find Professor Xavier, the one she knew, sitting quietly behind her. There was no trace of anger on his face, but she instantly rushed out an apology. "Professor, I'm _so_ sorry! I don't know how it happened, I just – "

The professor held up a hand. "It's all right. I don't blame you. I touched a memory you hadn't wanted to relive, and so you accessed the ones I'd hidden away in my mind. Only a powerful mutant could have done something like that. You should be proud." He paused, tapping a finger against his chin. "Although, you don't show any sign of having psychic abilities. How peculiar."

Tara bit her lip as her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"I'll do my best to explain these things to you in time. For now, we must get back to the school. I suspect Scott is worried by now." And with that, he rested his cool fingertips against her forehead once more, and the beach around them faded.

When Tara opened her eyes again, she was staring at the ceiling. With a slight groan, she tried to sit up. Warm hands pressed against her shoulder blades and her leg, assisting her. She glanced up to see dark sunglasses in front of her face. She smiled weakly. "Thanks, Scott."

"What happened? Are you all right?" he asked, ignoring her gratitude.

She nodded. "I'm fine. Why am I on the floor?"

Scott helped her to her feet and then stepped back, nodding at the professor. "I don't know. One minute you were fine, and the next, you collapsed." He looked to the professor. "Did something go wrong? Has that happened before?"

Professor Xavier rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I can't say that it has." He lifted his head to look at Tara. "But that doesn't mean it was a bad thing."

Tara ran a hand through her hair, twirling a curl around her finger nervously. "Is there something wrong with me?"

The old man chuckled. "No, I don't believe so." That answer brought a smile to the girl's face.

"I managed to get a look into the abilities you possess," the professor continued. "Healing is the obvious one. From what I read in Scott's mind, you healed one of Storm's cuts. That's remarkable."

"It was a minor scrape. It's not really that impressive," Tara cut in, directing her gaze to the wooden floor beneath her feet.

The professor gave her a long look, like he was calculating something big in his mind, before replying, "Maybe not yet, but with some training, I have a feeling you could do things much greater than patching up a paper cut." He smiled and clasped his hands together on his desk. He turned his blue eyes to Scott. "For now, I'd like you to take her to Jean. Then, afterward, either take her to her room or find someone to do it for you."

Scott nodded. "I'll do it. I don't have a class today." He lowered his chin to look at Tara and motioned with his head toward the door. "Come on."

Tara glanced over her shoulder as the two of them walked away. "Good-bye, Professor," she called out with a wave. The professor waved back as Scott shut the door behind them.

They walked in silence down several hallways, Scott guiding her with his hand on her shoulder. They reached an elevator and stepped inside. Scott pressed the button for the very bottom floor and leaned back against the wall as the doors slid closed. Tara mimicked his pose across from him, her eyes trained on the crack between the two doors, waiting for them to open again so she could see what lay beyond them.

Occasionally, her eyes flitted to Scott's passive face. Were there secrets inside his mind, just as there were in Professor Xavier's? Who was this "Jean" she'd been hearing about? She must have been important, as Scott's lips turned up slightly every time her name was mentioned.

"What is it?" Scott asked, turning his attention to her.

Tara tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"You're smiling."

She chuckled. "Am I not allowed to smile?"

Scott shook his head, but didn't answer. The elevator dinged once and he motioned her forward. As soon as the door opened wide enough for them to pass through, he gently took her by the elbow and pulled her along behind him. He was walking quickly, enough that Tara had to jog to keep up. And, was she imagining it, or did there seem to be more of a spring in his step and a joy in his expression than there was before?

They stopped outside a large door emblazoned with an "X". It slid open, splitting the letter in half. Scott's hand left Tara's elbow as he led the way into the pristinely white room. Various forms of technology decorated the walls and floor space. Several tables were situated off to one side, a few of which held children in varying conditions, the most complex one being a cold. Tara's hands twitched; she could help them.

A woman with chin-length, brilliantly red hair turned toward the sound of their footsteps. She had large hazel eyes, prominent cheekbones, and was actually quite tall, but everything else about her was smallish. Her mouth curved into a grin when she saw Scott. She sashayed over with long, slender legs and threw her arms around his neck.

"Hello, Jean," Scott greeted, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

Tara tried her best to suppress a giggle. She was right about her assumption of the relationship between the two, and, frankly, she couldn't have been more thrilled. Scott clearly adored Jean, and although she'd known him for only a short while, Tara felt he was every bit deserving of the redhead, whom she also didn't really know.

She didn't realize she was staring until Jean looked her way. Embarrassed, Tara ducked her head and scrutinized the cracks that ran along the tile under her feet. She heard Jean laugh a little and chanced a peek upward. The woman's greenish eyes were smiling as she offered a hand. "Hi. I'm Jean Grey. Your name is Tara, isn't it?"

Tara placed her hand in Jean's, and the two shook. "Yes, that's right," Tara answered. Her previous shyness dissipated; Jean was a pleasant person to be around. "Um, what exactly am I supposed to be down here for?"

Jean looped her arm through Tara's and led her toward a machine at the side of the room closest to them. A table slid out from the middle of it. "Professor Xavier wants me to perform a couple routine checks, to make sure your mutation isn't of any danger to you."

"I heal people. How is that a danger?"

The redhead smiled. "A valid point, but, if you don't mind, I still need to run the tests. So, if you could just climb onto this - " She patted the table. " - and lay down on your back, we can be over in a few minutes. All right?"

Tara shrugged and stepped forward, putting her hands on the table and heaving herself onto the tabletop. She spun until she was facing the machine and then laid herself down, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. What were the "tests" that had to be performed on her? Her powers were in no way harmful to her. If they were, she'd have noticed by now; she'd been using them for four years now.

_The professor is probably trying to find my other power,_ she realized suddenly with slight panic. _Can this machine really do that?_

"Um, Jean, do I really have to do this?" Tara asked anxiously, staring up at the woman who stood on her left side.

Jean tilted her head, like she was puzzled by the question. "Is there a reason you're so against this?" she inquired, scrutinizing the younger girl's face.

"I'm claustrophobic," Tara replied. She turned her attention to Scott, blinking at him with pleading blue eyes. "I can't guarantee I won't break something."

Scott pressed his lips into a hard line. Tara caught his eyebrows rising above his sunglasses as she looked at Jean. Jean herself had pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes in concentration. A few moments passed before her eyes came back into focus. "Professor Xavier said that if you're not comfortable with it, then I'm not supposed to force you." She smiled. "But I would like to see your ability in action before you leave, if that's all right."

Tara grinned and pushed herself into a sitting position. "Of course," she replied, ready to do anything as long as her secret could stay confined to her own knowledge.

Scott helped her off the table. Jean took the lead and walked over to the few children who were dozing on the other table. Tara strode over to the one on the far right and set her hands on the metal railing. The young boy lying on the table had blonde hair and a light splattering of freckles across his cheeks. He opened his green eyes when she tapped him on the forehead. "Who are you?" he asked in a squeaky voice. He couldn't have been older than eight.

"I'm Tara," she answered with a small smile. "I'm going to make you better. Now, what's the problem?"

He lifted a tiny hand to motion toward his ailment. "Throat hurts," he said.

Tara nodded and reached out to lay her fingertips on the soft skin of his neck. Her hand glowed gold, and warmth spread all the way throughout her body, swarming into the little boy's affected area. Mere seconds later, he coughed once and broke into a shy smile. "Thank you, Tara," he told her. "It feels much better now."

Jean gripped her shoulder. "That was amazing!" she exclaimed. "It would have taken me much longer to fix him."

"I thought you were the doctor here," Tara said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "Do you not have healing powers like me?"

Jean laughed. "No, I've got psychic abilities like the Professor, only I'm nowhere near as powerful as he is. I work in the infirmary, though, because there's nobody else to do it. But now that you're here, you can do it!"

Tara held up her hands. "Wait, I'm not even that strong. I can't cure much more than a headache."

"The professor will help you train and control your abilities, so that they're more of an asset to you than a hindrance," Scott replied.

_Hindrance? It doesn't feel like a hindrance. I'm helping people,_ Tara thought, slightly puzzled. _Maybe he means being a mutant as a whole. That'd make more sense._

After that little exchange, Tara walked around to each of the tables that held a patient, asked about their illness, and used her powers to heal them all. Her smile grew wider with every look of relief that appeared on each child's face. Her muscles were sore and her energy was almost spent, but she was happy, happier than she'd been in a year.

Jean and Scott were smiling as well. "Well done, Tara," the man praised, glancing over her shoulder to check on her last patient. "You should probably rest. I'll show you to your room now, and give you a tour of the school tomorrow."

Tara nodded. "All right. Good-bye, Jean," the younger girl said with a wave.

Scott gave Jean another quick kiss before walking with Tara to the X-shaped doors. They slid open automatically for the two of them. Tara shot a quick look at the infirmary behind her as the doors were sliding closed. The children were up and walking now, preparing to return to their respective rooms.

_You know,_ Tara thought to herself. _I think I'll actually like it here._


	4. Chapter Three

**Hey everyone! So, here's the new chapter! Someone commented and said to bring on the Wolverine (made me smile, by the way!), but I'm here to tell you that you'll have to hold on for another chapter or two before I get into X2. I have to build up Tara's time at the school, you know, and get her all situated with friends and training and such. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

THREE

Scott lead Tara back down the hallway the way they'd come. They returned to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. Silence followed; neither of them had much to say, or if they did, they didn't want to voice it. When the elevator arrived and let them inside, they filed in without a word.

After a few more moments of nothing but the sound of their inhaling and exhaling, Scott decided to speak. "It's really impressive, you know, the things you can do," he said awkwardly. Tara could see faint splotches of pink appear on his cheeks. His glasses blocked most of her view, however.

"Oh. Um, thanks," Tara replied. She was starting to wish he'd kept his mouth shut. The silence was more awkward than it'd been before.

The elevator stopped on the ground floor a few minutes later. Scott walked ahead of her as they trekked down the long hallways. A few of the students gave her curious glances, but none of them said anything. Tara kept her eyes glued to the floor, too unsure of her surroundings and her exact situation to pay much attention to where she was going. The euphoria from healing all of those children had worn off, and now she was too shy to even look around.

Not long afterward, she bumped into something solid. Muttering incoherent apologies, she backed up and lifted her gaze. Scott had stopped in front of a solid wooden door, and was looking at her with lips that were pressed into a thin line. His head was tilted slightly to the side as he watched her. "Are you all right?" he asked her suddenly.

"Um, yeah," she answered. "Yeah, running into you didn't hurt. Sorry about that."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Scott's lips. "That's not what I meant." Tara blushed. "You seem a little distracted. I know this is probably a big change for you, being around all these other mutants, but you'll get used to it quickly." That small smile turned into a grin. "Most of us here are friendly."

"Oh, I feel so reassured," Tara replied sarcastically, feeling surer of herself now. She turned her attention to the door before her. "Is this my room?"

Scott nodded and pushed the door open. Inside were paneled walls and shiny wooden flooring. Windows covered the far wall, showing the night sky behind the thin white curtains. Tara hadn't realized how much time had passed since she'd arrived. The professor must have been in her mind longer than she thought. _Or I was in _his_ mind longer,_ she admitted guiltily.

To her right, a queen-sized bed was pushed against the wall. Crisp white sheets lay beneath a navy comforter. Two pillows rested on each side of the bed that could easily fit two people. It was more space than she really needed, but she wasn't complaining. She hadn't slept in a real bed in almost four years. A nightstand sat on the right side of the bed, adorned with a small lamp. An oak dresser was sitting against the wall that held the door. A different door was across from the bed, probably leading to a bathroom. Her face lit up with an ecstatic expression. She hadn't expected anything this wonderful in her wildest dreams.

"Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you so, so much."

Scott patted her shoulder. "None of this was because of me. If you're going to thank anyone, thank the professor. He used to live here as a boy. Not sure why his family needed this many bedrooms, but whatever." He chuckled lightly. "Jean and I's room is back down the hall the way we came, if you need anything. Just shout if you do."

Tara nodded. "All right."

"Also, the kitchen is a little further in that direction." He pointed to the right, in the opposite direction of the elevator. "So if you get hungry at all, you know where it is. It's always open. And there should be clothes in the dresser for you until you can buy your own."

Her smile didn't falter as she stepped into the room, taking everything in. She felt as though she'd died and gone to heaven, if heaven was a school full of mutants and a man who could see into her past. But she didn't care; it was more than she could ever have hoped for.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Thank you, Scott."

"Always happy to show new mutants around," he replied.

She shook her head. "No, not just that. For saving me, and for bringing me here." Her eyes sparkled with the sincerity of her words. "Thank you."

Scott's mouth turned up into a half smile. "Good night, Tara."

"Good night, Scott."

oOoOo

_Two bright lights pierced through the darkness of the night, making Tara shield her eyes against the glare with one hand. _Turn your high beams off, buddy. You're blinding me here!_ she thought, a little irritated. Some people just didn't understand the courtesies of driving._

_It took her a second to realize that the headlights before her should have been to her left side, not directly in front of her. A shriek tore out of her throat as soon as she figured out what was happening. The dual beams were growing ever larger as they came closer. She tried desperately to jerk her wheel toward the side and escape from the other vehicle's path. Her car jerked toward the left side of the road, but not quickly enough. The opposing car crashed into the passenger side of her own._

_The other person must have been going twenty over the speed limit because their car plowed right through Tara's, bending hers in half. Tara cried out as she was thrown into her door. Her head smacked against the glass while her body didn't move more than a few inches, held in place by her seatbelt._

_But she wasn't out of danger yet._

_The two cars were lying in a crumpled heap in the center of the highway, completely at the mercy of the other drivers. It was ten o'clock at night on a Saturday, the perfect time for drunks who'd just been thrown out of bars. One such vehicle, unable to swerve out of the way or come to a sudden stop, ran right into Tara's door, jolting her toward the wreckage of the other half of her car. Red splattered across her window and the windshield as the drunk driver flew through his own windshield and landed on the hood of his truck. He slid down the hood and ended up having his face pressed against her window, blood smearing where he touched it._

_Tara had been thrown sideways so that her legs were pinned beneath the crumpled passenger door and her upper body was being strangled by her seatbelt. Her skull was fractured, her arm was broken and hanging at an odd angle, and she was fairly certain that her shinbones had been shattered. Hot tears flooded her cheeks when she tried to cry out in pain. No sound escaped her mouth. She could do nothing but lie there and pray that someone would come to her rescue._

_It took a few minutes, but slowly the burning ache in her head began to dissipate. There was a popping sound, followed by a brief, intense migraine, and then it was gone. She lifted her right hand and felt her head; the bone had snapped back into place, and there was no longer any trace of blood. Another minute passed and, with a sickening cracking noise, the two pieces of bone that'd fractured in her arm resealed themselves into a straight line. Her shins took a little longer, but bit by bit, the bone fragments melded back together with a sound that resembled nails on a chalkboard. All the while Tara felt no form of pain._

_When her body was injury-free and completely healed, she fumbled for her seatbelt and unbuckled herself. She sat up and pushed at the metal across her legs. With a strong heaving motion, she stuck her shoulder under it and shoved upward. It fell away with a rough clatter. She crawled onto her knees and turned toward the front of her car._

_She passed her eyes over her rearview mirror before she realized what she was seeing. When she did, she turned back to her reflection so fast that she was surprised she didn't get whiplash. Staring back at her in the tiny rectangle was a young girl, no more than seventeen, the same age as herself. Blonde hair had replaced Tara's normal dark brown. Instead of their typical crystal blue, golden eyes blinked at her behind thick black lashes. "What the hell," she whispered, feeling her face. The girl in the mirror did the same. Their lips moved in sync._

_Now completely freaked out, Tara looked away and searched for a way out. Every door was dented so badly that there was no hope of escaping that way. That left her with one option: the windshield._

_Rolling onto her back on top of the center console, Tara brought back her right foot and swung at the glass with all her might. A slight crack appeared across its clear surface. She kicked again, and the crack grew larger. The third kick sent it shattering outward. She was free._

_Her breath came in ragged gasps as she clambered out onto the crumpled hood of her car. Her hands went to her hair. The long tresses were still much lighter than her brown locks had been before. She was willing to bet her eyes hadn't changed back either. This had never happened to her before. _What is going on here?_ Tara thought desperately. _

_Turning her head to the left, she choked down a sob when she saw the man that'd been flung against her window. On her other side, she saw the first driver lying slumped over, his head bleeding as it rested against his steering wheel. Getting to her feet, she hopped across the tattered metal and knelt by his side, searching for a pulse. Her fingers came back covered in blood and small bits of pink that resembled a model of a human brain she'd seen in biology class. The skin on his head had peeled away to reveal shiny white bone -_

Tara bolted upright in bed, a scream tearing its way out of her throat, loud enough that it echoed in her cavernous bedroom. She clapped a hand over her mouth once she noticed she had woken up. She ran her fingers over her face, brushing away a few tears. Her entire body trembled; she hadn't dreamt of that night in so long. She hadn't wanted to, as a matter of fact. She'd repressed it as much as she could manage. It must have resurfaced when Professor Xavier tried to view it.

She threw the blankets off her legs and swung her feet around to the floor. The cool wood sent shocks to her bare feet, but the good kind. Her mind was already starting to calm itself down. She adjusted the shorts she'd put on and tugged her t-shirt back down; they'd bunched up while she slept. Then she padded lightly to the door and opened it before venturing out into the still hallway.

Scott had told her the general direction of the kitchen, so that's the way she headed. A cup of coffee would clear her head, not to mention make sure she wouldn't fall asleep again.

She followed the ornate rug that led down the center of the hall until she came to a doorway with no door. Through there she could see shiny countertops, a fridge, and a stove, along with various other small appliances. An island sat in the center, surrounded by a few chairs. Tara spied the coffee maker and proceeded to open every cupboard to find the coffee grounds.

Unfortunately, once she did find it, it was on a shelf too high for her to reach. She silently cursed her height, even though she was taller than the average female her age. She was contemplating getting a chair to stand on when another person's arm reached up and grabbed the package for her. Blinking once, she turned to see Scott standing beside her, wearing a white t-shirt and sweatpants. He smiled faintly at her and handed over the coffee mix. "You seem to be a little vertically challenged," he said quietly with a small laugh.

Tara scowled good-naturedly at him. "We can't all be six and a half feet tall, Scott."

He chuckled again and crossed to a different cupboard to retrieve two mugs. "Of course not," he answered. "I need an armrest sometimes, you know."

Tara giggled and approached the coffee maker. Her brows furrowed as she looked it over. She'd never actually made her own coffee before; her mother always had a pot prepared every morning, as she went to work around the time Tara would be leaving for school. And the hotels the young girl had been sleeping in for the past four years had machines were all you had to do was push a button and hold your cup underneath. "Uh, Scott?" she asked tentatively.

He shook his head and went to stand behind her. She felt his body heat on her back as he took the bag of coffee grounds out of her hands and nudged her aside. "Go sit down. I'll bring it to you."

Feeling useless and embarrassed about such a simple task, she went over to the island and took a seat. She swung her legs back and forth while she waited. Her eyes roved over her surroundings, taking in everything. Every now and again she'd lean to the side to see what Scott was doing, trying to absorb his knowledge about the coffee maker.

Minutes later, Scott strolled over bearing a steaming mug of coffee in each hand. He set one down in front of Tara before taking a seat across from her and taking a sip from his own. The steam fogged up the lenses in his sunglasses that Tara noticed he was still wearing. "Do you ever take those off?" she asked, tilting her head. He shook his head. "You know who wears sunglasses at night, Scott? No-talent douchebags."

He smiled at her little joke. "My mutation makes it impossible for me not to wear these. The lenses are ruby quartz, and they block the optic lasers in my eyes from destroying everything around me."

"You can't control it on your own?"

Scott looked uncomfortable with the question, and Tara regretted even asking it. "Sorry," she said quickly. "You don't have to answer."

He waved his hand. "No, it's all right," he sighed. He bit his bottom lip before answering again. "I suffered a head injury when I was younger. Years later, I got really bad headaches, and only the special lenses would help. But because of the head trauma, I could never control my power. So I have to wear these all the time, even when I sleep, because if I don't the blasts could potentially hurt someone. Closing my eyes also works, though."

Tara took a large gulp from her coffee, ignoring the burning in her throat from the hot liquid. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Don't be." Scott took another sip and asked, "Why are you awake at this time of night?"

Tara paused as she contemplated how much to tell him. "I had a nightmare," she finally responded, rubbing her sweaty palms against her bare knees. She glanced at Scott to find his face was completely unreadable. "What about you? Why are you awake?"

"Jean," he answered. Tara took in Scott's messy hair and his rumpled t-shirt and raised her eyebrows with a small smirk. "She had a nightmare, too," he said quickly, catching on to her implication. "She has them a lot, actually."

The mug between her hands warmed her entire body, and Tara tried focusing on that instead of asking what sort of things Jean dreamt about. She drank again and let the bitter taste of liquid energy course down her throat and into her bloodstream, waking up her senses and making every nerve tingle. She kept her eyes low, unsure of how to continue the conversation now.

Scott, sensing she didn't know what to say, instead asked her, "Your nightmare. Do you have it often?"

Tara was surprised by the question. Scott Summers did not seem to be the kind of man to ask about a near-stranger's personal life. Now that he _had_ asked, she had to mull over how much truth needed to be spoken. "I used to have it all the time. But I've been able to forget it for the past, oh, two years or so," she answered.

"What's it about?"

Tara's lips curved upward into a small smile. "You know, Scott, you don't look like the guy to be so friendly toward a stranger."

His cheeks turned pink beneath his sunglasses. "You're not a stranger, though, Tara. I feel like I've met you somewhere before." He adjusted himself in his seat so that his elbows were resting on the countertop and he was leaning a little toward her. "Have I?"

She cleared her throat and turned her body away slightly away from him, trying not to make it seem obvious that she was lying directly to his face. "I told you earlier that we haven't."

When he nodded, remembering, she changed the subject. "You wanted to know about my nightmare, right?" He nodded again. She tucked her hair behind her ears before continuing, keeping her eyes trained on her coffee again. "It's always the same thing: the night I found out I was a mutant."

"So it really happened?"

Tara nodded, still not looking up. "I had just left my friend's house. We were working on a project for our English class, but it wasn't coming together like we wanted, so I had to stay late. It's not like I ever did anything on the weekends anyway." She gave a light laugh. "But when I was driving home, a car heading in the opposite direction swerved into my lane and hit me. The right side of my car was crushed inward, but I was relatively unharmed. Then another car hit me on the other side, and it got bad. My skull was fractured, my arm was broke, and the bones in my legs had shattered."

Her hands were shaking now. This was the first time she'd told, well, _anyone_ about that night. For some reason, she felt like she could trust Scott, and she hadn't known him that long. She had a feeling they'd be good friends in the future.

Her coffee was nearing empty, so she drained the rest of it, refusing to look anywhere but at the murky brown liquid. Swallowing once, she went on. "It took a little bit, but my skull fixed itself, my arm popped back into place, and my legs miraculously pieced themselves back together. I don't even have any scars." She decided to skip over the bit about discovering her change in appearance. She wasn't ready to reveal that secret just yet. "I smashed my windshield to get out of the car, and I found that both men who had hit me had died. I saw blue and red lights flashing in the distance and figured I should get the hell out of there." A faint smile crossed her face. "I didn't feel like being accused of murder."

"But it wasn't you that hit them," Scott reasoned, finally speaking up.

Tara smiled sadly. "We're mutants. Does it matter?"

Scott was silent once more, his face an unreadable mask. Tara finished her story by adding, "I've been wandering around ever since." She finally glanced up to see his reaction.

His lips were pressed into a hard line as he watched her carefully. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

Tara raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why? None of this was your fault. I'm all right, to tell the truth. I mean, I left my family behind, but we weren't really that connected to start with. And now that I'm here, I feel like I can finally start having a life outside of running away from everyone who looks my way. We're all in the same boat; we're mutants, and the world doesn't accept us. So we've got to stick together. Right?"

Scott's mouth split into a grin. "Right."

A few moments of silence passed, in which the two of them did nothing but stare at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Tara had no idea what went on inside that man's mind, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Scott was a lovely person, but his past sounded like it was clouded with pain. She was usually very good at reading people, but he was more difficult. She had secrets, and she was almost positive that he had some of his own. But if anyone would be her friend in this strange new place, it would be Scott. He may not have known it, but Tara knew they already had a bond of sorts; they'd already saved each other's lives. Maybe Jean would be her friend as well.

Scott got to his feet, picked up his mug and Tara's, and set them both down in the sink. "I should probably go back and check on Jean. Do you want me to walk you to your room?"

"All right," Tara replied. She stood as well and followed him out of the kitchen.

They walked in silence down the hall until they reached Tara's bedroom door. Without thinking, Tara reached out and pulled Scott into a tight hug. He hesitated a moment before awkwardly patting her back. "Thanks for listening to me, Scott," she mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled, making his body shake and Tara with it. "No problem. See you in the morning, Tara."

She pulled away, trying to hide her blush. "Night." Then she disappeared into her room.

Despite all the coffee she'd consumed, fatigue still dragged on Tara's mind and body. She crawled beneath the sheets and rested her head on her pillow. She watched the moon outside her window for a minute or two, marveling at how well she could see it. Slowly, her eyelids drooped until the last thing she saw before drifting off to sleep were the stars in the sky, watching over her like guardian angels, telling her everything would be all right.


	5. Chapter Four

**Yay, more Halo! I watched X-Men and X2 yesterday, and they helped me get this chapter out, as I was feeling very uninspired. So, we've got part of the beginning of X2 in this chapter. Also, I hope you're all excited to learn that Wolverine comes in next chapter! I'll try to get it out as soon as possible! **

FOUR

"Are you ready to leave?"

Tara turned her head and smiled at the professor as he came up beside her. "Where are we going again?" she asked, falling into step beside his wheelchair.

They were walking toward the Blackbird, the jet that had brought her to the school several weeks ago. Since then, Professor Xavier had helped her hone her healing powers by letting her work in the infirmary with Jean. On more than one occasion, she'd cut her arm and talk Rogue into timing her, just to see how long it took to heal herself. Her record for a long slice down the length of her forearm was twelve seconds; a tiny gash in the crook of her elbow was two.

She seated herself across from the professor once they made it inside the aircraft. She crossed her ankles and leaned back in her chair; she'd relaxed a great deal more from the first day she arrived.

"Blythedale Children's Hospital," Xavier answered, telling it to the pilot as well.

Tara nodded. That was right. How could she have forgotten? The professor believed she was advanced enough in her skills to attempt to heal non-mutant children with ailments far more serious than the ones she was already used to seeing. Ailments that the world was still trying to come up with a cure for. Cancer, and those kinds of things. She wasn't really sure she could do it, but she'd give it her best shot.

She shifted in her seat to get a better view of the professor. "Do you think they'll be able to manage without you at the school?" she joked with a grin.

Professor Xavier smiled good-naturedly. "Storm, Scott, and Jean are taking the students to the museum for the day. It will be interesting to see how the trip turns out."

_It'll be interesting to see how _our_ trip turns out, too,_ Tara thought, beginning to feel a bit nervous again.

_Yes, that too,_ the professor replied in her mind. _There's no need to fear what you're about to do, Tara. I believe you'll do just fine. Have a little faith in yourself._

The rest of the flight was silent. Tara watched the scenery pass on the other side of the window at the front of the jet, most of it a green and brown blur as they flew over a forest. A lake broke the pattern every now and again, but not often. She hummed quietly to herself so that only she could hear, trying to calm her nerves. What if she couldn't help the children? What if she made it worse? What if she passed out before she even entered the building?

_Have a little faith in yourself,_ the professor repeated, fixing her with a stern gaze that almost made her squirm. She nodded at him and settled back into her seat, praying for the ride to be over soon.

oOoOo

The heels of Tara's boots clicked as she strolled down the immaculate hallways beside Professor Xavier. A blonde nurse in a pristine white uniform walked ahead of them leading them toward their first patient's door. She stopped before it and stepped to the side, motioning for them to enter. Tara waited for the professor before cautiously striding in behind him.

A single bed sat alone against the far wall. A small TV hung on the opposite wall, playing some cartoon show that Tara didn't recognize. A pink balloon in the shape of a heart rested on the bedside table with a clear vase full of flowers. In the bed itself rested a little girl, no older than nine years old. She was so tiny that the bed dwarfed her, making her seem more fragile than most other girls her age. Her skin was pale, almost papery white.

"The key," the professor murmured softly to Tara. "is to only heal her enough to ensure that she will recover in time."

Tara swallowed. "What's wrong with her?" It came out harsher than she'd intended for it to.

"Leukemia." The professor wheeled himself to the girl's bedside and looked up at Tara. "If she were to be healed all at once, the doctors would suspect mutant activity."

Tara frowned, narrowing her eyes at the door. Was the nurse standing out there, listening in? "You'd think they'd be more excited about her recovery, and thanking God for a miracle. Not trying to exploit us."

The professor shook his head. "The world is strange, Tara. It doesn't always make sense. Besides," he smiled at her. "I don't think you have enough strength to completely cure her leukemia all at once. At least not today. For now, just set her on the path to recovery."

Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, Tara came around to the other side of the bed and held her hand over the little girl's body. She could feel the sickness radiating off of her like a heat wave, making her palm start to sweat. She placed it against the girl's forehead and closed her eyes. Warmth spread from her core to the very tips of her fingers, slowly creeping through the girl's skin and down to the very core of her bones. The tremendous heat she was generating was soothed by the golden tendrils that flowed from Tara's fingertips. The infection burned until there was only a slight trace of it left.

"That's good, Tara. She'll be up and around in a few months' time," the professor said in an approving voice.

Tara cut off the thin stream and removed her hand from the girl's head, but kept her eyes shut. A warm sensation pulsed behind her eyelids, and she knew her eyes had turned golden. She'd demonstrated too much power. She only prayed that her hair hadn't gone blonde.

Little by little, she felt her body begin to refill the gaps of power she'd just expended. She didn't reopen her eyes until she felt the heat leave the recesses behind them. When she did, she found the professor watching her carefully, a slight spark of curiosity in his own eyes. "Are you all right?" he inquired.

Nodding, Tara replied, "Yeah. It just…took a lot out of me. I'm fine now."

From the bed came a sound like a quiet sigh. Tara looked down. The girl blinked open sleepy green orbs that were heavy with fatigue. They cautiously rotated upward to see the professor and Tara smiling down on her. "Who are you?" she asked softly, her raw voice barely above a whisper.

Tara's mouth formed a gentle smile. "We're just here to pay you a visit."

"How are you feeling?" Professor Xavier added.

The little girl gave them both a shy smile. "Good. I feel good."

"Excellent," the professor replied.

Tara crouched down until she could look the girl straight in the eye. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Samantha."

The professor reached forward and rested his hand against her forehead, pressing two fingers on his other head to his temple. "Well, Samantha," he said. "I hope you get better soon."

Samantha yawned once before settling back against her pillows. Her chest slowly rose and fell in even time, much stronger than it'd been when the two had first entered the room. The professor wheeled himself to the door and glanced over his shoulder when he reached it. "Come on, Tara. We've got other rooms to visit."

Tara bent over and planted a kiss on top of Samantha's head before following the telepath out into the hallway. _What did you do to her?_ Tara asked him mentally as the nurse led them to the next room.

_I altered her memories so that she wouldn't remember us being there,_ he replied. _But what's more important is what _you_ did to her, Tara. You gave a little girl a chance at life. You should be proud._

She couldn't help the grin that appeared on her face as they entered another room. In fact, that smile stayed throughout their entire visit to the hospital. It lasted through Lucas with lung cancer and Kelsey with a brain tumor, and Farley with cystic fibrosis and Emily who needed a heart transplant. No matter the age, no matter the issue, Tara nudged them on their way to recovery. By the time she'd finished with Emily, she didn't have to wait for her eyes to fade. She was so used to it that her power stores were barely in need of replenishing.

She stepped away from Emily's bedside and ran a hand through her own hair, tucking it behind her ears. "How many more have we got left, Professor?" she asked, looking up.

But the professor wasn't listening. His blue eyes were distant, watching something she couldn't see. His hands clutched at the armrests on his wheelchair. Tara stared at him for a few anxious moments before he finally let out an exasperated sigh. "None," he answered in response to her question. "We've got to leave. Now. There's been a mishap at the museum." And with that, he spun around and rolled out of the room.

Tara raised her eyebrows and jogged after him. "Is everyone all right?" she asked urgently, suddenly worried for her new friends.

"Yes, everyone is fine. None of our students are injured. But there's the threat of our nature being revealed that I'm worried about right now," he answered. Curtly, he added, "Come on. The museum isn't far from here."

Tara could do nothing else but follow.

oOoOo

A dark haired boy was smoking a cigarette in the food court when Tara and the professor reached the museum a short while later. Tara fell into step in between Storm and Scott as they followed the professor while Jean walked on Scott's other side.

John, Rogue, and Bobby were standing in the center, John facing off with the boy that was smoking. His eyes glittered as he watched the end of the cigarette flare up whenever the boy inhaled. Quickly, without anyone seeming to notice what was going on, John set the tip of the white cylinder on fire. It spread toward the boy's body until he went up in flames. Bobby held out his hand right after; a beam of frost left his palm, reducing the fire to a small amount of smoke.

And then everything stopped.

The boy on the ground was frozen with a look of terror on his face. All of the spectators had stopped in the middle of what they were doing, not moving a muscle. All over the museum, it was as if time had come to a complete halt. Only Tara and the rest of the mutants had the ability to move.

Rogue glanced around, looking shocked. "Bobby," she said quietly. "What did you do?"

Bobby shook his head. "I didn't do this."

Tara and the rest of the group emerged from the still crowd, led by Professor Xavier. "No," he said. "I did." He fixed the three teenagers with a steely gaze. "And the next time you feel like showing off – " His eyes flickered to John's face. " – don't."

While the young mutants looked down in shame, Storm, Scott, and Jean turned to Tara. "How did your trip to the hospital go?" Storm asked.

Tara grinned. "It was fantastic. I helped so many kids. It was completely surreal."

Scott clapped her on the shoulder. "That's great, Tara," he congratulated. "Well done."

"Are you feeling drained at all? Do you need a rest?" Jean inquired, fretting over her like the nurse she acted as at the school.

Tara shook her head. "At first, yes. But I'm better now that I've gotten used to using so much power in one sitting."

Suddenly, a television broadcast started ringing out throughout the food court area. "Breaking news," the announcer man said. "We're coming to you live from Washington, where there's been an attack in the Oval Office of the White House."

Simultaneously, the four of them turned their heads to the right to see the TV screen. The man sitting behind the desk continued. "Details are still coming in, but we have been informed that the president and vice president were not harmed. Sources say the attack involved one or more mutants."

Tara's breath caught in her throat. Who would be stupid enough to try and attack the president in the White House, where there were several agents there to try and stop them? Any person, mutant or not, would have had to have thought twice about it before just going ahead and doing it. So what was going on?

Scott spoke up from beside her. "I think it's time to leave, Professor."

"I think you're right."

oOoOo

Back at the school, Tara mindlessly wandered the halls while the kids were in class. She wasn't a student, so she didn't have any lectures to attend, and she wasn't a professor, so she had no classes to teach. Everyone else was occupied with something else, leaving her alone to walk around on the lawn or time the cuts she made on her arms for the umpteenth time.

The warmth of the sun spread over her skin wherever it wasn't covered in clothes. She stretched her legs out in the grass and laid back, resting her head on her arms. She was lying in full view of the basketball court, underneath which sat the Blackbird. She smiled. She couldn't think of another school that had a large jet beneath the ground.

She was sick of sitting around her bedroom waiting for Scott and the rest of them to finish teaching so she could hang out with them, so she decided to take a nap while the weather was still nice. Storm had promised to teach her combat skills after she got done with her last class. All she had to do was wait. And wait. And wait a little longer.

She didn't realize she'd dozed off until someone shook her shoulder. "Tara."

She jerked awake and quickly rolled over onto her back, blushing. The sunlight glinted off red lenses. Scott smiled at her and offered her his hand. Still blushing, she took it and let him pull her to her feet.

"What're you doing out here?" he asked.

Tara shrugged. "I got bored waiting for Storm, so I came out here."

"Classes have been over for about an hour. Storm asked me to come find you. You weren't in your room."

She smirked. "And you just happened to come looking out here?"

It was his turn to blush. "I may or may not have asked Jean to locate you."

They both laughed as they walked back toward the school's front door. Tara bumped him with her shoulder. "So you cheated then."

"Well, it's not like we were playing hide 'n' seek," Scott defended, frowning good-naturedly at her.

"Maybe _you_ weren't." Scott just grinned at her and didn't reply.

They walked the rest of the way in silence toward the Danger Room. Tara had never been inside, but she'd heard from Rogue and Bobby that it was quite the experience. On the outside, she kept a calm demeanor. On the inside, however, she was battling excitement with nerves. She ultimately couldn't wait.

Scott nodded toward the door. "Storm's waiting for you in there. Be on guard; she might attack as soon as you walk in, just to test your reflexes." He patted her shoulder. "Good luck." And then he was gone.

Swallowing once, Tara walked through the door as soon as it slid open, ready to leap in either direction if anything came at her. Just as Scott predicted, Storm was waiting to launch a tornado Tara's way as soon as she stepped into the room. She was hovering in the air; her eyes had turned into a swirly white color, almost like fog. Tara dove to her left, narrowly missing getting swept up by the twister.

"Glad you could make it," Storm called down to her with a smile. "Let's get this started."

Tara lifted her head toward the ceiling. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever you feel you need to do."

Well, that was helpful. Tara glanced around herself quickly, trying to sort out a plan. A pile of different weapons rested nearby. She ran toward it, jumping and rolling forward to avoid being hit by a bolt of lightning. She rooted through the pile as Storm started to create a thick fog. Her hands touched a lot of different metal objects, but those were no good; they'd only increase her chances of getting electrocuted.

Finally, she found something that felt like wood. She gave it a sharp tug; the momentum of yanking it out of the pile sent her tumbling backward. She held a long staff in her hands. It wasn't much, but it was about all she could really use against Storm.

Tara glanced upward through the fog. Storm was no longer levitating; she'd disappeared somewhere on the ground. Taking a deep breath, Tara gripped her staff tighter and ran forward into the haze.

A shadow loomed up ahead. She swung the staff at it, but was met with nothing but slightly disrupted fog. A laugh echoed throughout the room, coming from many different directions. She couldn't pinpoint its source's location.

She felt like she was running in circles trying to sort out her directions in the thick fog. A sudden gust of wind whistled through her ears and completely removed the cloudy blanket. Tara found herself in the center of the room, standing dumbstruck with the staff in her hands while Storm stood a foot away from her.

Another burst of wind carried the staff right out of her hands. She struggled to try and recapture it, but failed. Storm laughed again. "Time for some hand to hand combat training," she said.

Tara barely had time to brace herself before Storm ran at her. She tried to swing out a fist to hit the older woman, but Storm easily ducked out of the way and knocked her backward. Gasping just a little, Tara regained her footing and charged at Storm. Once again, Storm moved out of the way of her fists, but that wasn't what Tara was aiming for. As soon as Storm dodged her punch, she threw out her leg and swept the dark-skinned woman off her feet.

Storm landed heavily on her back. "Wasn't expecting that one," she chuckled, sitting up. "I think that's good for today. We can work on it again tomorrow, maybe with Jean or Scott as well."

Tara nodded and left the Danger Room feeling proud. She'd actually knocked Storm to the ground! She smiled to herself and headed to her bedroom, feeling both tired and energized at the same time. It was almost ten o'clock at night, however, and all she really wanted was her pillow and comfortable mattress. She could save the heroics for another day.


End file.
